Note: I decided I wanted to do a longer story instead of just a one or two chapter deal. So, I'll just type until I get Quistis and Seifer to say what I want them to say. The style will be probably be a bit different from the first chapter as well, at least until I figure out what I'm doing. Bear with me. I have no idea where this is going. They may end up eating pancakes and singing Spice Girls songs over a campfire for all I know at this point. Standard disclaimers apply.
Revised note: 1/14/09 The first chapter is still my favorite. If you like it as the oneshot I meant for it to be, then don't read after this point. It does kind of drift into semi-romantic territory at times. That wasn't the original plan. I meant for them to just kind of reach an understanding about themselves. So, I like to think of this as a sort of two part...thing.
11/29/09: I'm very unhappy with how I've written Squall in this fic. Instead of making him resentful that he is ALWAYS the guy that people rely on and the one that they turn to, I've turned him into a major dick. Not that I don't think he's a dick anyway, but I didn't do it the right way. So, if you do read past this point, just know that I'm working on a lot of improvements for this fic and fixing Squall is top of the list. Yes, he is kind of OOC, but I don't know if it's so much that, or if I've just taken what I saw in the game in a sullen, prickhead little boy and pushed it to the limit. So, be warned. Squall is a dick in this fic. I don't like him, but I also don't like what I've done with him. And the whole Garden as school vs. Garden as military academy thing; I'm working on this too to make it more realistic.
"You're late again, Blondie."
Quistis sighed. Not for the last time, she was glad that her parents were dead. She felt sure that they would be disappointed in such a bright girl waiting tables in a seedy bar instead of ruling nations. She shook her head. Late for the night shift. Great. You're really going places, aren't you Trepe? "I know, Joey. It won't happen again." A fight with her boss would only increase the throbbing behind her eyes. Cheap whiskey and the argument with Seifer had given her a pounding headache. She tied her apron around her waist and grabbed a tray. The late afternoon crowd was large, thirsty, and demanding.
"Better not. You can only wiggle that purty ass out of trouble so much, you know." She clenched her teeth together. That was the adjective of choice in this place. Purty. Joey sure liked his girls to be purty. Purty girls brought in business. The small part of her that remained the instructor wanted to correct his pronunciation and give him a thesaurus.
"What'd you do? I've told all of you girls a thousand times, stay away from the dicks that leave marks. Don't come crawling in here with a hangover and a purple face. Scares the customers away. Don't be late again. This is your last warning, Blondie. Get going. Your section is by the stage and it's getting busy early tonight."
She grunted a response and turned away, ready to greet her tables and finish her shift. She had almost forgotten about the bruises. Her mind was instead mulling over what Seifer said when he marked her. I'm not the reason you're fucking miserable… Now answer me… I want you to wake up…
When she saw that her first table was filled with hooting frat brothers, she groaned. I'm breaking fingers the second one touches my ass. Plastering her false waitress smile on her face, she tried to get their orders. "Hey fellas! Welcome to Joey's! Tantal Tongue Twisters are on special and drafts are just two gil. What can I get you?"
"Shit, shit, shit. That fucking hurt!"
Seifer threw the wrench down and put his palm to his mouth. He sucked furiously at the angry gash. "Fucking stupid pipe. Fucking stupid wrench."
"Yeah, yeah. Fuckity fuck fuck. Calm your ass down. Catch." Seifer caught the dingy rag that Mikey threw to him, wrapping it tightly around his bloody hand. "Hurry up. We gotta finish this before we get paid today."
Seifer, still cursing, picked up the offending wrench and went back to work. He was grateful for the job, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. The job simply meant money. Money meant food and booze. He envied animals when he did these random jobs. Mindless, numbing work. Tedious. He had tasted glory, knew how sweet it was to rule the world. Animals simply sought nourishment. They didn't realize how lucky they were to know nothing of human desires. Glory could ruin a person's appetite. Nothing was good enough anymore.
"You about done? I'm hungry."
Hell, he even envied Mikey. He was just a big animal with a hard hat and a fuck-ugly moustache. He sure as hell knew nothing about glory. Why the fuck am I so damn worried about glory today? I've not thought about that shit in months. Glory, happiness, fucking anything… Damn it. Of course. Her again. Last night's conversation with Quistis floated back to haunt him.
She pissed him off. That was it. She sat there in that weird damn mood, looking at that those fucking ice cubes. Always looking at ice and water, every time she got in those moods. He grinned. She had met him every Friday for three months to play cards and drink. Heavily. She could out-drink him on a good night, stopping only when she passed out on his couch or slumped against the toilet. The spiteful part of him rejoiced in her downfall. The rest of him was just pissed about it. It shouldn't have happened.
Dollet was one of the few cities hiring after the end of the war. After the radio tower incident, the small city was forgotten by leaders on both sides, leaving most of the infrastructure and buildings intact. City elders soon discovered that they were responsible for one of the fastest growing economies on the continent. Like many other able bodies, Seifer went there to find a job, a cheap apartment, and some good bars. Good money could be found for those willing to sweat for it. His status as a former Sorceress Knight meant nothing to those who didn't care about the war in the first place.
Quistis Trepe was supposed to be in Balamb, teaching, fighting, using that big brain of hers to change the world. To say he was shocked to see her looking for work was beyond an understatement. She was better than him, better than everyone. She was superior with a capital S. He followed her for three blocks, unable to believe that it was Quistis-fucking-Trepe, newspaper tucked under her arm, chasing down addresses from the classified ads. Her expression when he yelled 'Instructor'… oh yes, it was priceless. Losing the war had been worth it to see her blue eyes widen behind those glasses. Priceless.
He convinced her to accompany him to a local greasy spoon that he knew was frequented by rough construction crews and factory workers. They weren't accustomed to girls as good looking as Quistis and she certainly wasn't used to their special brand of adoration.
"Hey Almasy! Can I borrow her when you get finished? I've got one hell of an itch that needs scratched."
"Take off the glasses, Honey. You won't need 'em to see the snake I'm lugging around!"
"Fuck the glasses, Blondie. Take off everything else! You can leave your glasses if you want, I'll try not to break 'em."
"Don't worry about broken glasses, Sweetie. You oughtta be worried about me breaking something else! It won't hurt! Won't hurt me anyway. I can't guarantee the same for you!"
She blushed, ducking her head behind her sticky, ketchup stained menu. He laughed aloud at her discomfort. "Holy shit, Instructor. I bet you miss those Trepies now, don't you?" He pulled the menu from her, smirking when he saw the panic in her face. "Don't worry, though. They won't mess with you while they think you're my whore."
"Your what?"
"Why the hell else do women come to a town full of broke, hungry men? They gotta make money, too. After all, you came here, didn't you?" That barb hit her much harder than he thought it would. He jerked back right before her fork impaled his hand. It vibrated from the force of her attack, stuck half an inch in the tabletop. "Whoa! Easy there, Instructor! I'm just fucking with you. Hell, I'm trying to make conversation, not get killed over lunch! Damn!" He considered her carefully. She had always been a slim girl, but the thin figure that gave him more than one dirty fantasy during class looked almost skeletal. He wondered when she had last eaten anything. "Why are you here in this shithole anyway? I figured you'd be Headmaster by now."
He almost missed the fleeting pause before she continued. "No, Seifer. As you can plainly see, I need money. I heard about the employment opportunities here, so I spent most of my remaining cash to get a junk car. I barely made it here. Now, I have to find a job, get a place to stay, save some…"
"No. I figured you were here for work. Contrary to what you've always thought, I can work some things out for myself. Why aren't you teaching? Did Leonhart not give you your job back?" There it was, that old animosity. Her eyes flashed; bright blue orbs made even brighter by the dark circles around them. She opened her mouth to answer, but the waitress interrupted, sliding plates of questionable diner chow in front of them. Quistis forgot Seifer was even at the table. She ate for thirty solid minutes, pausing only when she had to breathe. He had never seen anyone eat like that. Devouring her sandwich and fries, she snatched his milkshake from his hands. When her plate was empty, he quickly placed his burger in front of her.
"This shit'll make you fat. Although, I wouldn't mind seeing you with a little more jiggle, as long as it's jiggling in the right places, not all over."
"Suut uh fuph up, Sheefur." She swallowed the last bite. "I'm hungry."
"Still? Holy shit! How?"
"Why do you care?"
"I don't give a flying fuck if you gain three hundred pounds. It's just that I'm paying for it today. Hell, try to do someone a favor and get nothing but sass. You're still the biggest bitch I've ever met. And you ate my lunch too. You could at least say thanks."
"Seifer, I'll pay you back once I find a job." She grabbed her newspaper, memorizing the next address on her list. There weren't many left. As much as it pained her to admit it, Seifer was right. Some of the men she met decided that they had enough hired help, but they were more than willing to hire her. If she couldn't find something soon, she was screwed. No friends, no family, no connections. No options. Keys jingled when she stood from the booth.
"Where are you going, Instructor? Gonna get a job? Great. Then what? Gonna sleep in your car? With fellas like these all over town? Good luck with that. Won't be the Ice Queen anymore when you have some sweaty factory hand climbing all over you. Hope you've enjoyed your virtue. You won't have it for long in these parts." He made the most innocent face he could, whistling through his teeth when she sat back down.
He was right.
She knew it.
She hated it.
And he loved it.
"Thought so. I guess you'll stay with me tonight. We'll play cards. But the second you start bitching to me about anything at all, I'll throw you to the first horny son-of-a-bitch that walks by. Got it?"
And so it began. She found a job waiting tables and a run-down room. She met him for card games. What depressed both of them was the fact that both of their lives were so shitty that they actually looked forward to Fridays. They worked, they paid their bills, and they played cards. Most card nights ended with both of them stumbling drunk and hating each other, vowing to never meet again. It was still better than the constant hum of nothing they faced during the rest of the week.
Both wondered what the hell happened. They knew they were meant for great things. Not these shit jobs in this shit town.
Seifer led armies, directed legions of soldiers, commanded respect and awe in some, fear and panic in others. He was a breath away from world domination when a group of young mercenaries defeated both him and his Sorceress Queen. Quistis was once vital to this same group, but she was never part of the group. She was useful, yes, but never one of them. A brilliant mind and extraordinarily gifted soldier, she played her role and played it well, but had nothing to show for it. Her comrades were showered with medals, awards, promotions, and praise. She just hoped to get her job back. As had so often happened in her short life, she was disappointed. With no Sorceress, there was no reason for SeeD to exist. With no SeeD, Quistis was out of work. Life in a military academy had given her no other skills. Balamb Garden was now a simple school that still thought that she was the same silly girl with no leadership qualities. Defeating a Sorceress was forgotten. They just pulled her employment record and decided that they had no need for her.
And then there was Rinoa. Perfect, sweet, beautiful, perfect, perky, bubbly, perfect fucking Rinoa. Balamb could certainly hire her to teach. Never mind that she couldn't tell the difference between frontal attacks versus flanking maneuvers. Never mind that she couldn't teach her students the most basic survival skills. Never mind that she was a goddamned sorceress!
That, more than anything else, was why she was playing cards with Seifer every week. Squall Leonhart, now Commander and Headmaster of the new Balamb Garden, calmly listened to Quistis as she tried to explain the situation. She argued that SeeD was still necessary, especially since the only remaining sorceress was currently residing within the walls of the facility dedicated to her eradication. He calmly told her to pack her things. He calmly told her that he was tired of her jealous attempts to hurt Rinoa. He calmly told her to shut the hell up when she said he was being foolish. He calmly had security escort her outside the gates when she refused to leave.
She calmly prayed every night that Squall's dick would fall off and Rinoa would leave him for a moomba. And she hated that Seifer didn't know these things, but he still fucking knew them. He was the only person she knew that could smirk without moving his lips.
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